


Mixed-Up Bits

by speccygeekgrrl



Series: MST3K Alternate Universes [19]
Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Gen, Jonah's got his head in the clouds, Max is too used to this ridiculousness, Princess Kinga Forrester needs caffeine for consumption and for weaponizing, Trope Mash-up Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:06:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: Ficlets based on prompts provided to me from the trope mash-up challenge on Tumblr





	Mixed-Up Bits

**Author's Note:**

> HEY. HEY YOU. LOOK AT THIS LIST: http://thylakhaleesi.tumblr.com/post/174374622113/fanfiction-trope-mash-up
> 
> NOW GIVE ME PROMPTS. DO IT.

"Here she comes," Max said under his breath. Jonah didn't say anything, just rolled his eyes and made sure the milk steamer was spotless. He didn't need to be warned about her approach: she was regular as clockwork in both timing and attitude.

The nice thing about working at the closest coffee shop to the royal abode was that everyone who visited Castle Forrester either fortified themselves with caffeine before they entered or consoled themselves with sweets after being subjected to the vagaries of the royal family. Business was steady, the neighborhood was safe, and honestly, Jonah was just glad to be working at a place that paid better than chain coffee shops. 

The less nice thing about working at the closest coffee shop to the royal abode was Princess Kinga, her hairtrigger temper, and her contempt of anyone who wasn't her social equal. Max had been working at this shop for six years and she'd still never bothered to address him by the name on the badge he wore every single day. The sole time she'd deigned to use Jonah's name in the fourteen months he'd been there was to mock it roundly. She was, to put it mildly, a royal bitch. 

Every day at half past two, she'd stride into the cafe intent on her daily fix: quad-shot mocha latte with almond milk and a drizzle of caramel on the foam. The reason Jonah was working here was that the person whose job he took had tainted her latte with dairy and she'd demanded his firing after an unpleasant night for her. Jonah, being a fairly smart kind of guy, had taken to sterilizing the steamer at 2:25 pm every day, not wanting to be the second barista taken out by carelessness. Which wasn't to say that he wasn't completely distracted the minute she walked in-- a royal bitch, undoubtedly, but also the kind of princess that made dreamy boys think of fairy tales and breaking curses with kisses.

The bell over the door chimed. Sunlight glinted off ginger hair with all the intensity of a wildfire. Usually unfazed by her appearance, today Max and Jonah both stopped still at the sight of her. Usually, she was in businesswear, busy helping with running the country. Today, though... today she was in full formal regalia, low-cut dress in a shocking shade of green, tiara perched on her brow, royal jewels gleaming in the hollow of her throat.

"The usual," she said when she got to the counter. Neither man moved. She hesitated, then sneered. "Hello? I know I didn't freeze time, I haven't got that one working yet. A little help?"

"Sorry," Jonah said, shaking himself out of his reverie a second before Max managed to do the same. "One moment, Your Highness." He started the espresso machine going and tried not to stare at her over it.

"Quickly," she said. "I have a Prime Minister to entertain and I'm pretty sure I'll slit his throat with my own tiara if I don't get caffeinated right the fuck now."

"You'd ruin your dress," Max said calmly, ringing her order up.

"You think I don't know how to get blood out of silk? Amateur."

"I'd never considered your practical knowledge of covering up a murder, no."

"A person can lose a lot of blood before the word murder gets involved." Jonah choked on air and failed to cover it up as a polite cough. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you sick? Get away from there. I won't have a contaminated latte."

"I'm not sick," he said. "Just startled. Sorry."

"Yeah, I don't care. You, finish it for him." She jerked her chin at Max, who gave a resigned shrug and took over the espresso machine, leaving Jonah with nothing else to do except try not to stare at the sneering princess. He failed. She stared back at him with a far less friendly expression than he was giving her. "What's your malfunction, four-eyes?"

"Don't mind him," Max said, tapping out the old espresso grounds and readying the third and fourth shots. "He's a daydreamer."

"Daydreamers," she said with a sneer. "Useless."

"I can't be that useless if you've never complained about a latte I've made you," Jonah said. "And I've made your latte 99 percent of the time since I started here."

"Do you want a reward? Maybe a knighthood. Sir Espresso and his cohort Lord Milk Foam." Max didn't even roll his eyes, too used to her attitude. Jonah, though, never knew better, and he leaned forward on the counter with a smile.

"I'd be satisfied with a kiss."

"Oh, would you? How about a hot latte in the face?"

"Please don't waste it so frivolously," Max said. "I could pour you a coffee to use instead." She smirked a little and crossed her arms. Jonah fought to keep his gaze on her face, which was... really difficult with the cut of her dress and the way she was holding herself.

"Just hurry up," she said. "Because of the list of people I could be throwing a hot drink on, you barely break the top five."

"We can give you four coffees," Max said. "You can take care of that list and then come back for him tomorrow." He finished steaming the milk and carefully poured it into the cup, then drew a little crown on top with the caramel. "But you'll be back tomorrow one way or another. And he's really not so bad that he deserves a scalded face. I don't want to work with him if he's going to be that ugly." Kinga stifled a snort of laughter and took her drink from him.

"I would cause several international incidents were I to take you up on that offer," she said, and then gave Jonah a calculating look. "And he doesn't need to be any more ugly." Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she walked out, and Jonah gave Max a hangdog look.

"Really?"

"I didn't call you ugly," Max said, hands up defensively. "I said you'd be ugly if she threw a drink in your face. She's the one who said you're already ugly."

"Did she say I'm ugly or did she say I don't need to be more ugly?"

"I think your pre-existing lack of hotness was implied." Jonah's frown deepened, and Max patted his arm. "I don't think you're ugly."

"But she does."

"Well, you did ask her for a kiss. You deserved it. This isn't a fairy tale, Jonah. You're not going to magically remove her bad attitude with a smooch."

"You don't know that until I fail at it," Jonah said, and Max rolled his eyes and went to start a fresh pot of coffee for the imminent afternoon crowd. Jonah stared out the front door, mind a million miles away already.

Max was probably right. He probably wouldn't turn her sweet with a kiss. But he thought he should at least try before he discarded the idea.


End file.
